


away

by cowboylakay



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, They deserve a break, mentions of retirement, no TB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboylakay/pseuds/cowboylakay
Summary: Arthur and Charles spend some time away. Much is realised before the day ends.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	away

The day came to a close, the sun slowly sinking and taking the wisps and rays of vibrant orange from the sky, the river reflecting the scene. The crackle of the campfire and the smoke that rose from it filled his senses, alongside the quiet huffs and neighs of the two mares and the occasional cry or howl of an animal in the distance. The breeze blew gently, soft on his skin and the perfect kind of cold for a night as beautiful as this.

Arthur, for the first time in months, felt completely at peace.

He glanced to the other side of the campfire, where Charles had been fletching arrows in an almost mechanical fashion, the process being as natural to him as drawing was to Arthur. The quick movements of his hands spoke experience and confidence, the grace and speed at which he wrapped the sinew around the feathers almost hypnotising to Arthur.

The silence in which Charles worked and Arthur watched was comfortable, unlike the awkward silences that came after awkward conversations, the stuffy silences that brought the tension of more questions with it, or the expectant silences that assumed there was more to come. Instead, they simply sat there together, breathing in the clear air of Big Valley, away from the oppressive energy of camp.

Camp. Just thinking about it made Arthur shudder at the thought. The idea of returning to the thick woods after spending weeks in the untouched, beautiful plains of the open country curdled wrongly in the pit of his stomach. Whenever he thought of camp, he missed the open and free space of Horseshoe Overlook, or that little patch of land by the lake called Clemens Point, or even the alligator-infested marshland that was the surrounding area of Shady Belle. All of the places they’ve stayed in before were blessings compared to the soupy, unsettling forest that was Beaver Hollow.

It was also the general feeling of discomfort, uncertainty, and fear that was in everyone in camp. Dutch had long changed into another man from the one Arthur knew from his youth, more brutal and more insane now than he ever imagined. Micah was like a snake slowly curling it’s body around Dutch’s throat, speaking affirmations into his ear as it tightened and eventually crushed his windpipe. It was the suspicion and barely constrained accusation in Bill and Javier’s gazes at him. They all still mourned the deaths of Sean, Kieran, Lenny, and Hosea, taken from them far too soon. Sometimes, when he saw Dutch, Micah, Bill, or Javier, he’s reminded of Guarma, and the way it chewed all of them up and spat them out.

Right now, though, none of these problems plagued him. For the first time in a long time, he was in a state of utter peace and quiet.

He picked up his journal and looked for the piece of charcoal in his satchel, and for the first time in weeks, he drew. There had been little to no time for drawing, what with the upheaval of their lives after the bank job. Before him were pages of just writing, only recounting the events of the previous weeks without the typical supporting depictions. Now though, with more time on his hands than he ever thought he’d ever get to have now, he set to drawing the faces of those they’d lost, starting with young Sean and working his way to Hosea.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what you drew in that journal of yours.”

It took him a moment to realise that it was Charles speaking, belatedly remembering that it was just the two of them around for miles. He smiled at the interest in Charles’ voice, glancing up from his work to look at him for a moment before looking back.

“Nothin’ special, really,” He replied as he shaded in Hosea’s wrinkles, “Just plants and animals I see, people I want to remember.”

Charles hummed at that, putting his fletching tools away. From the vast spread of expressions Arthur found himself privy to when they were alone, he could tell that Charles was content. “I remember seeing you hunched over your journal late at night a couple of times.”

“You watchin’ me while I sleep, Mister Smith? What’ll the people say?” Arthur teased, smiling a wide smile for what felt like the first time in ages.

“Nothing, since we’re the only ones out here,” Charles responded easily, the small smile on his lips almost unbearably inviting. “And you weren’t asleep, anyways. Could’ve turned your head one way and seen.”

He got up from the ground then, sitting closer to the fire as he warmed himself. From this angle, the fire bathed him in a gorgeous orange glow, though Arthur wondered if it was the fire or just Charles.

“What, did you want to be seen?” Arthur asked without thinking. The question seemed to catch Charles off-guard, almost as much as Arthur himself, confused for a second before his naturally calm disposition caught up to him.

He was silent for a while, long enough for Arthur to not expect an answer back. Arthur looked back down at the bust of Hosea that he’d been drawing when he heard Charles’ smooth, low voice.

“Maybe I did.”

It was Arthur’s turn to be silent. He had no idea what to make of that, mind going a hundred miles fast but also processing achingly slowly. He wondered if Charles had misspoken, but he’d never known the man to not carefully think through his words before speaking. He wasn’t stupid either; he knew exactly what Arthur meant. Now, though, Arthur didn’t know what  _ he _ meant.

“Is that so?” He asked hoarsely after a while, lips pursed in thought. Charles got up again, and Arthur wondered if he’d gone too far this time, when the man plopped down beside him and looked at him with more intensity than he’d ever seen from another directed at him.

“It is,” Charles whispered, so close to Arthur’s face that the rest of the world’s noises faded until he could only hear Charles.

At the first press of Charles’ lips against his, he thought that he would never forget the feeling, the warmth, the taste of them, and that no other could compare to it. It was gentle but firm, light but intentional, chapped but soft. He could taste the mint and oregano of the venison they had awhile ago, as well as the lingering taste of tobacco from the cigarette they shared. He could taste Charles, who was everything and nothing Arthur could’ve expected or anticipated, and it wasn’t long before he was kissing back just as intently.

His hands abandoned the journal and charcoal as they grasped Charles, fingers clutching the cotton of his favourite blue dotted-white shirt and the wavy length of his hair after being let down from the braid, feeling the softness of the strands in his palm as they adjusted. Charles managed to manhandle Arthur onto his lap, whose hands then moved to the sides of his face, while Charles’ own lingered on his waist.

They broke apart then, breathing heavily as though they’d just run several laps. Arthur, giddy and shocked and  _ enamoured _ , laughed breathily and peppered kisses across Charles’s face. He laughed too, a wonderful sound to Arthur’s ears, one that he came to love so long ago that every time he heard it, he felt happy.

“I can’t say I expected that,” Arthur told him, unable to keep the smile off of his face. Charles mirrored his smile, lips spit-wet and chasing after his again. Arthur decided then that he would never be able to get enough of it.

“It‘s not unwanted, at least?” Charles asked, the teasing but almost hesitant tone of his voice endearing Arthur further than he knew he could to him.

“I don’t know, I reckon I oughta try it out some more,” He said with a grin, accompanied by the glee of a young boy getting exactly what he wanted.

Charles was more than happy to indulge him. It led to the both of them lying in the grass, Arthur’s head rested on Charles’ chest while he slung his arm around his waist, looking up at the night sky as the fire crackled close to them. He could fall asleep like this, slung across Charles’ chest like a particularly heavy scarf, with the feeling of strong fingers rubbing small, gentle patterns against his side.

“We could run away together,” Charles said suddenly, quietly, like a secret. Arthur, on the brink of falling asleep, sobered slightly as he understood Charles’ words.

“We’re already away.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“We couldn’t,” Arthur sighed. “They still need us.”

“I know.” Charles sighed then, a heavy sound. Something about it made his heart hurt. “They should run away too.”

“John is too fool to do so, but,” He muttered, “He should. Him and his family. Mary-Beth, Tilly, Karen, too. Sadie. Anyone else that wants to leave.”

Charles was silent for awhile, the only sign he was still awake being the hand that moved from Arthur’s side to his hip. “They would follow you, you know? They trust you.”

“They shouldn’t.” Just the thought that they’d follow him to his end when they should be running far away and never looking back made him feel wrong inside.

“But they do, and they’d follow you if you led them far away from this mess.” He felt a kiss on the top of his head, tender and assuring. “I’d follow you, wherever you went.”

“Don’t be stupid, Charles,” Arthur sighed wearily, smoothing out some part of the man’s shirt. “You know where I’m goin’; somewhere you shouldn’t follow. Can’t.”

“And if you went elsewhere?” Arthur shut his eyes, sighing quietly to himself. Charles persevered. “If you left before it’s too late? We’d follow you. Anyone that wanted to leave, that wanted to be free.”

“Dutch still needs me.” Though it was as strong of a defence as the man’s trust in him, but he was running out of reasons.

“You know that’s not true,” Charles said gently, seeing through him without issue, “Not anymore. We could run away together, with everyone else that wanted to come with us.”

He thought of a ranch out in the countryside, far away from the choking grip of civilisation, far away from Dutch or the Pinkertons or anyone else chasing after them. A bit of land for all of them, growing crops and taking care of animals and lazing about without a care or worry in the world.

Or maybe their own home, close enough to the others that they could visit, but far enough from civilisation that life could be peaceful. A cabin in the mountains, right by a lake that reflected the sun. A creaky porch with two seats set out, the perfect view of the quiet scenery they’d have to themselves for the rest of their lives before them. Going to sleep and waking up in the same bed everyday, never having to worry about packing up and moving again, sitting out on the porch with hot drinks in hand as they watched the setting sun after a day’s work.

He thought of both of these things, and wondered if he deserved it. What he knew, though, was that Charles and the others deserved every single part of it.

“I’ll think about it,” Arthur said after awhile, quiet as anything as he sidled up closer to Charles. In turn, he felt the arm hugging him bring him in closer when sleep finally took him. Before he felt his sleep deepen, he heard a quiet, relieved sigh and felt a kiss on his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> no tb because i say so
> 
> i’m [lakay](https://cowboylakay.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
